The King Of Fakes
by CasFellForDean
Summary: What happens whenever Haise begins to remember his former self? Is Kaneki Ken still the same person inside his head, or will Arima have to play the ultimate trump card and exterminate the CCG's dog? What version is going to win this game?


also hi im typing on a tablet sorry for any errors. Also wtach tomyo ghoul. And fan about it with me, its so sad. ps might be some spoilers in here and a little bit of bad langauge and such. What did you expect its tokyo ghoul. What am i doin i mean i want kaneki back but i love haise and what if centipede comes back or the ccg try to get rid of haise oh god no i loeve this pun making dork too much. Also arima is p cool but he stabbed my bby in the head im just gonna pretend it never happened.

**King of Fakes **

Haise had been somewhat daydreaming for a large portion of the day, not bothering to quietly listen in on conversations of any sort of even caring enough to start any either. He could pull the most convincing fake smile to anyone and everyone and no one would guess that he was on the verge of breaking down in panic for some unknown reason. After all, he had been acting his way through life. Sure, maybe some people could figure out when he was lying or something, but no one was even close enough to him to do so,maybe soemone from his past? His past, the past 20 years of no memories of anyone. He didn't have any concrete memories, but more or less just uneasy and incredible hostile feelings. Sure at some points he would suddenly get reminded of a sudden nostalgia that had been plauging him more than not, bt usually it was...fear? Fear didn't seem like the right word.

Insanity.

Or was it him overthinking? Needless to say, this is what he had been daydreaming about all day, his former self. as soon as he got up, he found his mind entrapped with these thoughts, even when he saw Arima earlier that day, a headache began pressing at his temples. Almost as if his eyes were burning or something. He ended up having to actually excuse himself from his short conversation with Arima to hurry to a bathroom. Where he promptly began vigourously checking his eyes, only to realise that he was crying. This seemed to be a reoccuring notion, weirdly enough. It wasn't the first time he had began crying for no discernable reason. Like that time he went to that nice coffee shop and began crying. God he hoped this wasn't going to become a regular thing.

As he stood hunched over the sink, staring into the mirror, he became incredibly aware of everything. Almost as if he had been buried in sand for the past few years. He stared directly into his own eyes, feeling as if he didn't own them. He didn't dare tell anyone any of these thoughts though. Because within his mind was an incredibly dark place. A place he didn't like to venture on occasion, but sometimes had to. As he stood there, staring, shaking, the cool colours of the walls reflected off his eyes in the mirror. Made him look like he had blue eyes. In reality they were grey. Well the right one was.

Mind fixated on his own form, questioning and wondering, he heard the door open behind him. Spinning around from where he was hunched over the sink and nearly managing to fall over whilst trying to not look suspicious as the stranger came in. The stranged paid him no notice, and Haise simply ruffled his hair a bit and fixed his white tie and strode out of the bathroom.

At least, he hoped it happened as smoothly as that. He didn't want to cause a fuss to anyone, let alone Arima, so he had decided to try and avoid him a bit all day. Not like that was difficult, Arima was usually busy. Today he really didn't have much to do, any work that was left had been completed, the quimx squad was just lounging around. Urie and Shirazu getting into small brawls over silly things, saiko locked in her room playing games and Mutsuki was just reading a book. They all seemed pretty content.

Haise, quite obviously, was not. He had been sitting reading a book, well pretending to read it, as he tried to pass time. Anxiety filled his mind, his hands wouldn't stop shaking ever so slightly and the headache was still pounding against his eyes. He had already taken a painkiller not too long ago, but nonetheless the headache still persisted. He felt uncomfortable, heart beating out of sync with his tedious thoughts, constantly ruffling his black shirt, fixing his tie, tweaking at the placement of the large rimmed glasses on his face. Finally, he decided he would go and train some martial arts or something, hopefully his mind would be set at rest.

Hopefully.

...

Move close in, raise left leg, block with right arm, and kick.

He had been repeating certain movements and instructions for about 30 minutes. He wasn't getting anywhere, books, talking, people, workouts...nothing was working to actually stem his anxiety. He felt like he was going to go insane with this headache, it wasn't even at his temple, it felt like his actual eyes had been gouged out and something stabbed through his head. It was going through his head.

...

...his head.

...

Going through his head? Why was that familiar?

That didn't make any sense to him, he began feeling around his eyes, prodding the skin around them lightly, hands ruffling through his hair to the back of his head, applying a small amount of pressure against the sore spot.

What was going through his head? It wasn't a headache for sure. He was confused, his mind didn't feel right. Why was he fighting again? Did he ever wear glasses? What is all this?

As he was asking himself these questions, standing alone in his gear in that room, he heard the door swing open. Swerving his body around to the noise, cracking his neck and looking over his shoulder at the new people. Well they weren't new, Arima stood at the door, followed by the rest of the Quinx squad. Haise simply stood there, feeling a bit stupid.

"Oh, Haise, you're already here. Good. I wanted to see how everyone's training is going", Arima didn't faulter. Straight to the point and immediately the quinx squads shoulders slumped. Saiko the most, the dark circles under her eyes ever persistent. The rest of them seemed ok though. Urie with the constsnt look of dismay and Shirazu and Mutsuki looking rather indifferent. All of them were already dressed in their gear, including Arima.

Sasaki hadn't realised, but Arima was talking to him. Something about fighting and if he was good to go.

"eh...sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you say?", Haise said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up to Arima's cold gaze.

"I said are you ready to train, Haise, or do you need more time to warm up?"

"Hm, no,no, I'm good. Is it one on one? ", Arima only offered a curt nod towards him, began taking his position atthe other side of the room. Both of them poised completely still, Haise's body feeling far too rigid and mechanically for his liking. Arima waiting for the start. They had done this before, of course, only this time the quinx squad was watching intently from their sitting positions around the corners of the room. Shirazu absently whispering something to Saiko, a low mumuring of conversation, but otherwise completely quiet in the metallic room.

And Arima stepped forward. He came at Haise so fast it was almost as quick as a blink of an eye. Well, that's a bit of an over exaggeration, but it was fast. Haise didn't have much time to react before he felt a sharp jab of a hand to his torso, and so he spun with the force of the hit, kicking his leg out towards Arima, trying to go for a blind hit, and so they danced on.

**Arima View **

After basically all of them had tired out, Haise was half kneeling over, grasping his temples, mumuring something quietly to himself in a rasping voice. He had zoned out, even after he had called to everyone that they were done for the day, Haise just completely blanked out. He had stayed like that for a while, whispering small things, completely out of question. He decided to approach him slowly, feeling the quinx squad's eyes on him, he stepped quietly, near tip-toed towards Haise. Gently taking hold of one of his arms that was clutched around his face, managing to move it away to show the small nail indentations on the skin in a bit closer to Haise's bent stature, he could make out some of what he was rambling.

"It's **going...through** my head, iS **THIs** PaiN.? Whan...what is **happenin...whhy** is my eyes,...his poetry for the **insane...does** hide...993..."

He stood back up, not letting go of Haise's arm, he ordered the quinx members to go get some rest, although they were adamant for a short time, they believed his little white lie, just simply telling them that Haise wanted some water. A stupid lie, of course, but he couldn't let them see him. Couldn't let them find out about the King of Fakes.

As soon as they had dissappeared out of the room, he roughly grabbed Haise's arms. He didn't want to hurt him, but Haise was resisting every attempt Arima made to gently take his hands away from his face. Haise had begun to actually dig his nails into his skin, a small trickle of blood forming on the left side of his face. With Arima firmly holding Haise's arms away from his head, he could actually assess the damage.

What he found instead was the face of a terrified young man, his eyes wide and body shaking violently. Tears trickled down Haise's cheeks and his mouth tried to form words, all that came out was a few rasps of unintelligible language. Arima accidentally stared at him perhaps a moment too long, and his grip softened on Haise's arms, now one hand simply wandering to Haise's forehead, lifting up the slightly ruffled white hair and prodding the skin around the small cuts lightly. He wiped away the small amount of blood on the other man's forehead and looked back at Haise's face.

Haise stared at the ground, his teeth gnashed together, spitting out words in a violent manner he had never heard Haise use before. Never heard Haise use It.

**"youkilledmeyoukilledmeyoukilledmeyoukilledmeyoukilledmeyiukilledmeyoukilledmeyiukilledmeYoUKIlledMeYOUKILLEDMEYOUKILLEDMEYOUKILLEDMEITSGOINGTHROUGHMYHEADITSGOUINGTHROUGHMYHEADGODHELPMEKILLMETHESPARKLINGEYESHEEWPAUINKILLIENGME-**

Arima subsequently had to let go of trying not to hurt Haise by that point. Instead opting to roughly shove him back against the wall and try to get through to him. Haise's screams defiant in his mind, each word reflecting off the metallic walls and echoeing back as a constant reminder to Arima for what he's put him through.

No.

What Kaneki Ken went through.

**HAISE** **VIEW** (my little dork i love him so much)

FLeshH.?

Is that what he wanted. You know you wanted this, that voice whispered in his mind, along checked floors and over the noise of centipedes in his ears. This is who you are, Haiseee. The voice, kaneki that would be. The more insane version.

Haise had cracked. Under the pressure of failure, of losing everyone again, the nightmares, memories, his past self, the constant goddamn stupid game he had played with Arima the whole time. Enough was enough. Haise wasn't strong enough to beat Arima, but could Kaneki? Kaneki died before, yes, but is it possible that Kaneki could win?

So hungry. Flesh. So hungry. The pain. The pain. My eyes. What was he thinking again? Who is he? Dopplegänger, would that be the case? He didn't want to hurt anyone. No. Not anymore. Don't hurt anyone, please. If anyone's to hurt, it should be me. Please don't hurt anyone. This shouldn't have happened. Please save me. Help me. God I'm so messed up. Mother. Can i play on the swings? Where's Hide.

Mother I'm so fucked up. I will annihilate you. which one. Which one. what do i do. Fuck me up. Hell. Hide? What's going on again?

Hah, Haise, let's switch. I'll help you, you have to help me. Deal. Only for a little while. You're going to go insane again, Haise. This is what you want, right? Have you ever really hated me. I'm far better suited to fighting, don't you think? So hungry. Eat. That's my deal. Eat. So hungry.

Kaneki clambered along the floor, centipedes running up and down his arms without hesitation, a hand extended towards Haise. A hand, so hungry. Touka. The checked floor dashed with blood, numbers ringing out in his mind,going to drive him insane. Centipede, was that his name? Yes. Poetry can help. 993.

And so, the king played his pawn.

**CRACK**


End file.
